


In the Absence of Sun

by a_little_summer_wind



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Angst, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, F/F, F/M, Flash Fic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, One Shot Collection, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Random & Short, Short & Sweet, Shorts, also i’m sorry for forgetting martha existed until chapter 12, georg? hehe more like GAYorg, hanschen is a disaster pan who can’t drive, hanschen may or may not buy a hentai hoodie, i hc wendla on the spectrum and you can’t stop me bitch, i’m sorry i keep forgetting this fic exists, i’m sorry i made thea and anna such bitches. they deserve better and i love them, just know she’s the bestest girl and i love her sm, melchior kinda doesn’t really show up that much because he has no rights and is also boring, moritz just needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_little_summer_wind/pseuds/a_little_summer_wind
Summary: They had been happy once, full of nothing but sunshine. But now they're older, teenagers who look at the world with jaded eyes. High school, their own families, nothing really matters to them- except each other.An angsty spring awakening high school au (with some fluff and just the right amount of gayness mixed in)
Relationships: Hanschen Rilow/Ernst Robel, Ilse Neumann/Moritz Stiefel, Martha Bessell/Moritz Stiefel, Otto Lammermeier/Georg Zirschnitz, Wendla Bergmann/Ilse Neumann
Comments: 18
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters will all be pretty short, sorry that my bastard little ADD brain can’t be patient and work on something for more than 20 minutes at a time lol

Somewhere in the distance, there was the ring of a school bell. The shuffling of feet, the mutters and shouts of voices. But they seemed so far away.

Moritz sat with his back against the brick wall. The grass was covered in a thin layer of frost; the first chill had just arrived. It was only late September.

"Wanna go back to class?" Moritz turned his head to answer the voice coming from next to him. There sat Ilse Neumann, his childhood friend, the only person in the world who really, truly knew him.

"Nah," he replied. "Let's just sit for a little bit more."

"Okay." Ilse inched closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Together, they looked across the field, watched the morning dew hang in the air.

Somewhere, they heard an angry voice calling their names. A teacher, no doubt, demanding where they were, why they were cutting class for the eighth time in two weeks. But the shouting only passed in and out their ears, without recognition; all Moritz and Ilse could hear was the rustling of a gentle wind through the trees.


	2. Chapter 2

"Should we get started?"

Ernst lay sprawled out on his bed, tapping his pen on the pages of the math book lying on his unmade sheets. He looked at Hanschen, who sat with his legs crossed on the floor, his phone in his hand.

"Nah, not right now," Hanschen replied distractedly. "I just wanna scroll through Instagram for a little while longer."

"Seriously," Ernst pleaded. "We have to finish our homework. Herr Sonnenstich will kill us if we miss another day of work."

"Bold of you to assume I even have the will to live, Ernst. I thought you knew me better."

Ernst couldn't help but let out a chuckle. His boyfriend had always had the best sense of humor.

Was it too early to even call him his boyfriend yet? They had only been formally dating for a few weeks, and Ernst was still new to the whole relationships thing. But he stopped worrying whenever he remembered what Hanschen had told him the first time they kissed: _don't think about what you're feeling. Just let yourself feel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one isn’t super angsty, I just wanted to write some ernst and hanschen being cute and thought them doing homework together would be fun to write


	3. Chapter 3

"I should probably get going now," Otto groaned as he rolled off the bed. He reached down to grab his shorts when he felt a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Don't. Please, just for a few more minutes?" Georg's eyes were pleading him to stay.

"Trust me, I want to. It's just that my parents are probably wondering where I am."

"They still don't know? We've been doing this for like two months already. They have to have noticed something going on."

"Well, they're pretty stupid, to be honest." Otto smiled slightly, leaning down to kiss Georg goodbye. He opened the bedroom window slowly, crept out onto the tree branch just in front of the ledge, and shimmied down the trunk into the Zirschnitzs' yard. He was used to doing this by now.

As he walked home, Otto thought about Georg again. He told himself that when he got home, he'd finally tell his parents everything. Then again, he told himself this every time. He never had the courage. No wonder he was still in the closet.

Like every time, Otto felt a nagging sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Going to church every weekend since he was a toddler had messed with his brain beyond repair, no matter how much he told himself that there was nothing to be ashamed of. But as soon as he thought of Georg's face, his smile, his laugh, every little thing about him that Otto loved so much, that feeling of guilt vanished. Religion was only a tangle of lies meant to keep the masses in check; their love was the only thing that was truly holy.


	4. Chapter 4

Diners at 3 A.M. have a peculiar atmosphere. Unfamiliar. Otherworldly. Of another dimension entirely.

Ilse was familiar with this. She spent most of her nights in the back booth of Maler's Diner, picking slowly at her omelet and black coffee as she looked out the window at the deserted streets. She didn't need to sleep; not that she was able to, anyway.

Most times, Ilse sat alone. But now, Wendla was with her, sitting opposite her with her pink cardigan wrapped tightly around her shoulders. It was warm enough in the diner that she didn't need it; she just felt more comfortable with it on.

That night, Wendla hadn't been able to sleep. She had had too much on her mind. She had texted Ilse, asking for advice on how to cope; five minutes later, Ilse was in the Bergmanns' driveway. Wendla worried about how her parents would react if they found out she had left the house in the middle of the night without their knowing, but she desperately needed an escape.

"You wanna talk?" Ilse asked. They had been sitting in silence as they ate their food.

"Not really," Wendla answered quietly. She didn't make eye contact, looking down at her pancakes instead. "Sorry."

"It's ok," Ilse replied. "We can just sit here if you want. That's fine with me too."

"Thanks."

"No prob."

Ilse didn't believe in much. She was much too acquainted with the myriad of evils the world had to offer to fall for the farce of human goodwill. But Wendla's purity, her innocence, her kindness, Ilse could believe in that. That was enough for her.


	5. Chapter 5

Melchior sat on the grass, his back against the stone wall of the church. It was a Sunday, and mass was in session; his parents, like the rest of the people in town, were inside, but he refused to go in.

He tried not to let the sound of the choir take root in his mind; he knew that the grandiosity of mass was designed to rope unsuspecting people into the inescapable web of the Church's various deceptions. He tried to focus on the book sitting in his lap- Goethe's _Faust_.

Melchior closed his book and looked up at the sky. It was a shade of steely, gloomy gray, suggesting a rainstorm was coming. He sighed; as much as he didn't want to get soaked to the skin, he still refused to enter the church, even for much needed shelter.

He checked his watch. The service must have been almost over by now. He rose up and leaned against the wall as he stood, looking at the park that stood across the street. The playground and the basketball court were empty, of course. The only movement was the leaves of the trees shaking in the wind, the only sound was that of birdsong in the morning air. It was almost winter, and it too cold here for the birds by now; they should have been flying south already. They were just too stubborn to move, he figured- or maybe they were just used to their old ways, and didn't want to change.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mom, I'm gay."

Otto sat at the dinner table as his parents and sister ate their food. They weren't eating anymore. This wasn't the best time to tell them, but he didn't care; he was done waiting, done pretending.

He was waiting for them to say something. Anything. Their stunned silence felt worse than anything he could expect them to say.

"What do you mean, _you're gay_?" Otto's father spoke first. His voice was harsh, his face was twisted into a scowl. Otto had always been close with his father; he had been certain that even if no one else approved, at least he would have.

"I like boys, dad."

"I know what being gay means. Have you always been _gay_? How long have you known?"

"I don't know, dad. I think I've always known, in some way."

"Are you dating anyone?"

"Sort of."

"Who?"

Otto hesitated. "Uh, Georg Zirschnitz."

"Otto, you can't expect us to be okay with this."

His mother spoke with a sharp bitterness that pained him. Her voice had always been the exact opposite, warm and sweet, even when she was angry. He was beginning to realize just how much everything would change.

Otto looked to his sister. They had never been the closest, but she had always been supportive of him, even when no one else was. He was hoping she'd say something to defend him. Instead she sat in silence. Maybe she didn't want to speak in fear of upsetting their parents further. Maybe she had nothing to say at all.

Suddenly Otto started sweating, his breathing became raggedy and shallow. He hadn't had an anxiety attack in months.

"M-mom, d-d-dad, I'm not feeling too well. I'm going to g-go to my room." No one answered.

Otto ran up the stairs and locked his bedroom door behind him. He fell onto his bed, face down, and he cried.


	7. Chapter 7

"Fuck, marry, kill. Melchior Gabor, Moritz Stiefel, Hanschen Rilow."

"Ew, Thea, you know Hanschen's gay. Gross."

Anna and Thea sat across from each other on Wendla's bedroom floor. Ilse sat between them; Wendla was curled up in the corner. She was uncomfortable with her friends' coarseness, but the fact that she had friends at all was enough for her.

"Can we speak a little quieter?" Wendla asked from the corner. "I don't want my parents to hear. They'll get mad that we're talking about this stuff."

"Ugh, your parents are such prudes," Anna groaned.

"Yeah, Wendla, relax a little bit," Ilse said. "Trust me, they can't hear us."

Ilse always put Wendla at ease. She inched a little closer to the group and leaned in.

"So Wendla, who do you pick?" Thea turned to Wendla.

"Huh?"

"Fuck, marry, kill. Melchior, Moritz, Hanschen."

"I really don't feel comfortable answering that."

"The answer is obvious anyway," Anna interjected. "Fuck Melchior, marry Moritz, kill Hanschen. Why is this even a question?"

"Ew, you want to marry Moritz?" Thea responded in mock disgust.

"Anyway, this is boring. I smuggled some vodka in my bag. Don't worry, Wendla, I brought a juice box for you too." Anna reached into her bag and pulled out a room temperature bottle of vodka and a carton of grape juice.

"No, I don't need the juice," Wendla said quietly. "I'll take the vodka. I've never had it before and I might as well try."

Anna handed Wendla the bottle. She took a sip, only one. It burned in her throat, it tasted like the way hand sanitizer smelled- how could people like this?

"Listen, I'm going to sit outside for a bit," Ilse said to Wendla under her breath. "Come with me."

Anna and Thea were too busy talking with each other to notice as Wendla and Ilse got up and left the room. They sat down on the patio, Ilse's oversized jacket draped around Wendla's shoulders. Wendla was always cold, and Ilse didn't mind.

"You shouldn't have drunk the vodka if you didn't want to," Ilse said. "Don't you remember all those videos about peer pressure we saw in elementary school?"

"I wanted to."

"I could tell you didn't. Listen, I would never have made you do that."

"I know. Listen, let's not talk about this. My throat still hurts."

"Okay. Let's just look at the sky. Aren't the stars pretty tonight?"

It was a particularly clear night. The light pollution of the suburbs usually blocked out the stars, but tonight they were clear as ever, distinct little pinpoints of light across the velvety black sky. Wendla huddled a little bit closer to Ilse as their eyes both fell on Orion's Belt.

Somewhere inside the house, Wendla's parents were getting ready for bed. But she didn't need to sleep. This, sitting here with her best friend, looking at the stars in perfect quiet, was all that she needed.


	8. Chapter 8

"Please?"

"For the last time, no, Moritz, I will _not_ write your essay. I can help you write it if you want."

Moritz and Melchior sat at the Gabors' kitchen table, Moritz's computer sitting in front of him, an empty Word document pulled up on the screen. There was an essay due tomorrow in English class, and Moritz had been sitting in front of the computer for two hours with nothing to show for his time.

"I mean, there's no point in it anyway," Moritz said as he looked out the window above the kitchen sink.

"What's not worth it?" Melchior asked.

"Just... everything."

Melchior sighed. "You've been taking your meds, right?"

"Yeah."

"Are they working?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"Listen." Melchior leaned in closer to Moritz and looked into his eyes. "If you ever want to talk, if you ever need me, I'll always be here. I'm your best friend, you know that."

"Thanks."

"It's no problem. I want you to be okay."

"I want me to be okay too."


	9. Chapter 9

"So I heard dinner didn't go well."

"Yeah, it could have gone bett- watch it, Hanschen, you're about to drive into that minivan."

Otto sat in the passenger seat of Hanschen's beat up Camry, gripping onto the dashboard as he swerved across the road. Despite his chaotic driving, Hanschen spoke calmly.

"Listen, Otto. Whatever you do, don't blame your parents for being jerks."

"Can we not talk about this? I just wanted to go for a drive." _I'm regretting that now_ , Otto thought.

"Okay. How's Georg? Sexy as ever?"

"Seriously, stop it," Otto shot back, though he couldn't keep himself from breaking into a smile. Hanschen had a weird way of comforting people, but it definitely worked.

"Listen, I gotta pick up Ernst," Hanschen said. "I promised him I'd take him to the movies."

"Really? If you had plans you didn't have to come meet me."

"Eh, it's no problem. You can come with. He won't mind."

"Fine. What are you guys going to see?"

"Hell if I know."

Hanschen, Otto, and Ernst took their seats in the back of the movie theater. They had decided on a romantic comedy, the new one with Jennifer Aniston- to see ironically, of course. As the previews started to play, Ernst turned to Otto sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, Otto?"

"Eh. Maybe. Can we just watch the movie?"

"Of course."

"Thanks."

"It's okay. Whatever you need."


	10. Chapter 10

"This is a good song, what is it?"

"'Serena' by Duncan Sheik. You should really branch out more with your music taste, Wendla."

"I'm sorry that I don't listen exclusively to Australian death metal, Ilse."

"I do _not_ listen to Australian death metal. I prefer thrash metal. Geez, do you know me _at all_?"

Wendla sat on the floor of Ilse's bedroom. She tried not to focus on the clothes, books, and other random messes piled around, everywhere she looked; she never liked chaos. Except with Ilse- she seemed to be chaos personified.

"You want a hit?" Ilse took the stick of the half eaten lollipop in her mouth and pretended to hold it like a cigarette, holding it out to Wendla. Ilse smiled, asking for a laugh in return. Wendla had a cleaner sense of humor, but she couldn't say no to Ilse, with her baby face and her warm gray eyes and her full lips.

Wendla suddenly had a thought. A thought she didn't exactly like. A thought she wanted to act on more than anything else in the world in that one moment.

"You're a lesbian, right, Ilse?"

"What do you mean, _are you a lesbian_? Does anyone just ask that? Really, Wendla?"

"But you are, right?"

"Well, yeah. Super, super gay. Why? You wanna kiss me?"

Wendla looked down shyly. She had made a mistake. Or maybe she had made the best decision in her life so far.

"... kind of?"

"Well, then kiss me."

"Okay. Let me just put on some chapstick first."

Wendla took out a stick of cherry chapstick from her purse. She applied it slowly, thoughtfully. She leaned forward closer to Ilse, until their faces were practically touching. No matter how much she wanted to, she felt she couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Don't be." Ilse leaned in and put her lips on Wendla's. Neither of them knew how long the kiss lasted; maybe a few seconds, tops. But to them, it felt like hours.

"Anyway, I should probably go," Wendla said hurriedly. She rushed to get her purse, to leave this house, this room as quickly as possible.

"But do you want to?"

"No, but I still have to go."

"Okay. Fine. I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Bye bye."

Wendla walked home, instead of asking her mother for a ride. She couldn't bear to face her. As she walked, she tried to let the chilly evening air distract her from her thoughts. It didn't.

When she got home, Wendla went up to her bedroom silently, ignoring the concerned questions from her parents. _Where were you? Why didn't you ask me for a ride?_ She tried to filter it all out.

Once she had reached the shelter of her room, Wendla sat down on her bed, the pink quilted comforter sinking below her. She looked out the window across from her, focusing only on the rustling of the leaves of the trees outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I ship wendilse. Yes I made a meta reference to Duncan Sheik’s solo work. Deal with it


	11. Chapter 11

Georg took a sip of his Diet Coke as he looked up from his phone. Wendla sat in the booth across from him, staring at her salad, not even touching her fork.

It wasn't a coincidence that she had asked Georg to meet her at Maler's Diner right when it was at its busiest. With all of the chaos going on around them, they would be able to talk without anyone hearing them.

As Georg turned his head to get the waiter's attention, his eyes landed on Bobby Maler, the heir to the Maler's Diner dynasty. As Bobby's large brown eyes met his, Georg couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"Uh, Georg, aren't you dating Otto?"

"What, I can't look? Look at him, he's a fucking masterpiece."

"Ew." Wendla rolled her eyes. Of course, she knew that Georg was faithful, but she couldn't shake the bad feeling she got.

"Listen, Georg..." Wendla's voice trailed off. She couldn't bear to mention what she was thinking, even though she knew she had to.

"What?"

"Uh... um..."

"Take your time." Wendla couldn't tell if Georg was being sincere or sarcastic.

"Listen, Georg... uh, you're gay, right?"

"Close, I'm bi. Your point being?"

Wendla dropped her voice to a whisper, leaned in close so that Georg could still hear. "Please don't freak out, but... last night I kissed Ilse Neumann."

Georg was silent. After a painfully long pause, he finally opened his mouth.

"Bruh."

"Listen, Georg, I really need your advice. I don't know what to tell my parents, I don't know if I even _should_ tell them, I don't even know if I'm gay or bi or whatever. You've gone through this, I thought you'd be able to help me, at least a little bit."

"Listen, Wendla, I really want to help you but I'm kinda shit at giving advice. If I tell you to do something it'll probably just fuck your life up more. I can get you some great weed though."

Wendla let out a giggle, in spite of herself. Georg's little jokes always cracked her up. Wait, was this a joke or did he actually want to buy her marijuana? She was never good at figuring these things out.

"Nah, I'm good. But thanks."

"No prob, dude. Any time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyy I’m back from the void! Sorry for not touching this for so long, I’ve had no motivation to write (if you didn’t know already, ADD and depression are little bitches who can go die). Anyway I kind of unwittingly implied that Wendla is on the spectrum, idk if this is even really based in canon but I am absolutely HERE for this headcanon. Anyway I’ll try to update more regularly now


	12. Chapter 12

"Hey- Moritz! Don't add so many eggs!"

Moritz stood at the kitchen counter, a slightly cracked egg cradled in his hand. Behind him stood Martha Bessel, his oldest friend. They had been close, once- up until her parents sent her to boarding school after fifth grade. Still, they found ways to keep in touch, and always got together whenever she was home (which, unfortunately, wasn't often).

It was already Thanksgiving break, and Martha was home for the holiday. She had asked to stay over at the Stiefels' instead of with her own family; Moritz knew that her home life wasn't optimal, but never asked out of fear that he might upset her. But he didn't mind.

When he woke up that morning, Moritz had sunk into another one of his "dips", as he euphemistically called them- his mood was low, his motivation nonexistent. Martha could sense this; she had always had a knack for understanding people's emotions. But she knew that Moritz had too much pride to ask for help, at least from her; and so in an attempt to brighten his mood, at least for a little bit, she suggested they bake cookies together.

What Martha had forgotten in her prolonged period away from home, however, was that Moritz was an absolutely _horrible_ baker. Somehow, the one Christmas where he had managed to set the kitchen curtains on fire while baking a pie had slipped through her mind. At least this mishap with the eggs wasn't as bad.

"Sorry for messing up, Martha," Moritz said, somewhat dejectedly. Martha heard him mutter something under his breath- _I always mess up._

Martha couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain- why wasn't she able to make him feel better? She knew that it wasn't her job to take care of him, that she wasn't responsible for his feelings, but she still couldn't help but feel guilt.

Martha reached out and gently put her hand on Moritz's arm. "Here, let me help you."

Martha took out a whisk and put it in Moritz's hand, placed her own hand over his. A moment of quiet intimacy, a moment where the dark fog around his head seemed to dissipate into the afternoon sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh sorry for taking so long to write this chapter, add is a bitch


	13. Chapter 13

"So, how d'you like it?"

"Awful. I still can't believe you went through with this."

Hanschen stood in front of Ernst, a wide grin on his face. He stood with his arms out from his sides, in order to flaunt his new hoodie- the one with hentai printed all over it. Hanschen had joked to Ernst about buying one; at least, Ernst thought he was joking- until now.

"Are you actually going to wear that?" Ernst asked, his eyebrows raised in a mixture of judgment and bewilderment.

"Yeah."

"In public?"

"Yep."

" _In front of people?_ "

"Mm-hm."

"Why am I dating you?"

"Because I'm _irresistible_."

Ernst couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Yeah, you are."


End file.
